Friday, October 31, 2014

Hallow-weird

“A joyful heart is good medicine." ~ Proverbs 17:22
Kyle, a college student, was on the side of the road hitchhiking home one Halloween night.  What began as a cold drizzle grew quickly into an angry storm.  Thick, gloomy clouds made him feel at least ten degrees colder.
Lightning broke the darkness revealing the desolation of the lonely road he’d chosen.  Then blackness again; the only thing visible seemed to be the twinkling raindrops stinging his face like tiny shooting darts. 
Car headlights occasionally lit up the murky blackness of this October night as the few travelers made their way home.  Drivers repeatedly passed without stopping - most with looks of disgust on their faces.  Hitchhiking at night was rarely a good idea – picking someone up was even crazier.  But Kyle had honed his skills through practice and desperation.
He always looked them in the eye and held his gaze as they passed.  Not in a crazy axe-murderer way, but in a friendly and personable way.  He only had a second or two to make a good impression.   He dressed in clean, upscale clothing; nobody wants to pick up a lazy, stinky-looking hobo.   He kept smiling; pretending the next car was a friend planning to pick him up.
The storm’s rage was peaking; Kyle could see only a few feet behind him.  But his persistence paid off.  After an hour of flashing his nearly-frozen thumb in the direction of approaching cars, a rusty, old clunker rolled to a stop beside him. 
Desperate for shelter and without thinking, Kyle jumped in and closed the door.  To his amazement, no one occupied the driver’s seat; the engine was silent.  The car moved forward slowly.  Panic shot through him like an F-15 breaking the sound barrier.  Was he hallucinating?
Up ahead, the road sliced downward into a tight, nasty turn.  Terrified, Kyle prayed for his life.  Just before the car hit the curve, a bony hand with calloused fingers appeared through the window and steered the car safely through the winding danger.  The ‘phantom’ hand then disappeared into the eerie darkness. 
As the car gained speed down the winding road, Kyle gripped the wheel tightly.  He guided the old wreck safely into the parking lot of a nearby pub where he stopped and ran from the ‘haunted’ junker as if it were about to explode.
Chilled to the bone, Kyle rushed inside telling everyone about his terrifying experience.  Bar patrons passed him off as nothing more than a Halloween prankster trying to con free drinks from his preposterous tale.
Suddenly, two other men walked in from the ghostly storm.  They too were soaked and winded.  “Look, Elmer!” one exclaimed.  “There’s that idiot that got in our car while we were pushing it!”
Father, the life can at times, be so challenging; draining us of happiness if we’re not careful.  Thank You for our friends and family who bring laughter to our lives.  Please bring belly-busting laughter to my friends today.  Amen

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Down's Side Up

“Above all, love each other deeply, for love erases any sins." ~ I Peter 4:8
As chilly fall winds returned, a traveling carnival set up near the edge of town.  A small operation with a several adult rides and dozen more for kids, it boasted a gaudy supply of unhealthy food. 
Hayden was ready!  On his eleventh birthday, he couldn’t wait to play the various carnival games. 
The crowds weren’t too bad yet for a Saturday as Hayden and his sister Beth made their way toward the midway.  The air was already vibrating with calliope music as they made their way past the concession stands stuffed with giant turkey legs and elephant ears.  Bags of cotton candy in delicate shades of mint green and pale blue twirled in the cool breeze.
But Hayden wasn’t distracted by lollipops swirled of crimson and saffron or candied apples behind glass cases.  He’d talked incessantly for days about winning enough tickets to buy a life-sized stuffed bear.
His excitement grew with each step as they approached the carnival game booths where ‘barkers’ promoted showy prizes of little value as if they were rare treasures.  When Hayden spotted the milk bottle game, he was elated.  Three bottles across the top, then two and one on top.  Easy enough he thought.
“This one!” he shouted emphatically, “I can beat this one.”
Beth’s smile lacked confidence for two reasons.  First, the game’s a scam.  When the ‘carnie’ arranges the targets, he puts heavier bottles on the bottom row, slightly toward the rear.  A pitched ball will hit the lighter bottles first, but won’t have enough energy to knock the heavy bottles off.
Second, because he had Down’s syndrome, Hayden lacked good eye-hand coordination.  Last year after a bucket-full of dollar bills, they walked away with only a Chinese finger trap as a consolation prize.  His disappointment nearly crushed her.  But she’d promised her brother another chance.
Hayden’s first pitch missed the bottles completely, as did his next $5 worth.  Beth struggled to look nonchalant as Hayden continuously failed to clear the table.  After an agonizing half hour of mostly misfires, he’d earned only a few tickets; nowhere close to the 750 needed to buy the bear. 
They retreated; flat broke and frustrated.  Then something amazing happened.
A group of teenage boys nearby must’ve overheard Beth mention that it was Hayden’s birthday, and that he didn’t win enough tickets.  They all pitched in and gave him the tickets they’d earned that morning.  After cramming into a photo booth for a hilariously friendly picture with Hayden, they wished him a Happy Birthday.
Brother and sister headed home relishing the warm embrace of a 5 foot stuffed panda, filled with joy, triumph, and the promise of new friends. 
Lord Jesus, teach me to be generous in prosperity, and thankful in adversity; be fair in my judgment, and guarded in my speech.  Help me be the soil of the human heart, and a fruit upon the tree of humility.  Amen

Monday, October 20, 2014

The Hole Truth

“We trust in the God who always works things out for our good." ~ Romans 8:28
Toby’s forehead was covered in sweat as the sun beat down on him and his little brother Zeke. They were already exhausted and they’d only been digging for less than an hour.  He stretched his arms and yawned.  “This dirt’s tougher than I thought,” he said to no one in particular.
Sweat pants drooping sloppily around his hips, Zeke yanked them up before sitting down and grabbing a juice box.  “You think we’ll ever get there,” he questioned.  “To the other side of the world, I mean?
Sitting on the edge of the slight dent, (he couldn’t really call it a hole yet), Toby checked his watch.  His back was already sore from all the digging but he knew it’d be worth it.  “We’ll get there,” he asserted.  “We just need to keep at it.”
As they continued working, two older teens approached and asked what they were up to.
“We plan to dig a hole all the way through the earth!" Zeke volunteered.
“That’s impossible,” the older boy laughed.  “Heated by friction and the decay of radioactive material, the earth’s core still sheds heat from its initial formation 4.5 billion years ago,” said the somewhat egotistical science nerd.  “The planet’s center is blisteringly hot.”
Not to be dissuaded, Toby didn’t look up.  He stopped before plunging the shovel into the fresh soil again.  A fat, brown earthworm cracked his way into the air, twitching in the strong afternoon sunlight.   Toby reached down and gently placed the worm in a nearby jar.
The older girl pushed her glasses up, magnifying chocolate-colored eyes, before she spoke.  “Besides, the diameter of the earth is roughly 12,750 kilometers,” she added condescendingly.  “That’s almost 7,000 miles for you metrically-challenged children.”
After a long silence, Toby reached again for the jar full of spiders, worms and a wide assortment of insects.  He removed the lid and showed its magnificent contents to the scoffing visitors.
Then he said self-assuredly, "Even if we don't dig all the way through the earth, look what we found along the way!"
Sure, their goal was far too ambitious, but it did cause them to act.  And that’s what a goal is for - to cause us to move in the direction we’ve chosen.  In other words, to dig in!
Not every goal will be achieved.  Not every hope will come to pass.  Not every job will end successfully.  Not every love will last.  Not every dream will be realized.
But when you fall short of your aim, perhaps you can say, "Yes, but look at what I found along the way!  Look at the wonderful things which came into my life because I tried!”
Lord Jesus, every frustration reminds us that this is not our home.  We long for a better life, where there are no more tears, disappointments, sorrows or suffering.  A life that You faithfully promised us when we believe in You.  Count me in!  Amen

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Bulldog

“God is always at work for the good of everyone who loves him." ~ Romans 8:28
He loved baseball.  For hours, he’d play by himself hitting a tennis ball into the fence; tossing fly balls, or pitching though the old tire swing.  In his mind, he was Mickey Mantle, Bob Gibson and Ernie Banks combined.
He loved watching grown men compete, the superstition of rally-caps, and fans catching foul balls.  He delighted in inning-ending double plays robbing opponents of a chance to score.  He even loved baseball fans and not just the cute girls in short shorts.  As a young man, he squandered a partial college scholarship due to academic ineligibility.  All he ever wanted to do was play major league baseball. 
In 1979, his life took a turn as abrupt as the sinker ball he later perfected.  Selected by the Dodgers in the 17th round, despite an unflattering scouting report: “poor control, weak fastball, shaky temperament.”
All that changed less than a decade later . . . World Series MVP, SI’s Sportsman of the Year, Cy Young Award and Gold Glove recipient, and AP’s Athlete of the Year.  He didn't need to be Kaline, Drysdale, or Wagner – he was Orel Hershiser, aka the ‘Bulldog.’
During the final game of the 1988 World Series against the Oakland A's, Orel was seen in the dugout on national TV with his head back, eyes closed, meditating.  Later when questioned what was going through his mind by Johnny Carson as a guest on the “Tonight Show,” he chuckled.
"I was singing hymns to myself to relax and keep my adrenalin down.  Every time I thought about being ahead, I got too excited to pitch."
The audience clapped and cheered, hoping to hear him sing a couple of bars.  As he politely declined, the crown roared – he’d never sung in public.
"Just a couple of bars," urged Carson.
Hershiser, sitting in Carson’s famous chair, began to sing the “Doxology:” – “Praise God from whom all blessings flow . . .”   He didn’t make it to the end of the song before his voice cracked and his eyes swelled.   Carson gently patted Hershiser’s arm.  For one brief moment, “The Tonight Show” became a worship service starring Orel Hershiser as the messenger of good news.
No matter where we are, we can proclaim God’s greatness.  We can tell the world that God is good.  There are no defects or contradictions in Him, and nothing can be added to His nature to make Him any better.  Because God is so good, He wants us to have what we need for our happiness and He sees that it is available to us.  Every good thing we now enjoy or ever hope to enjoy flows from Him.  Never stop praising Him for all that He does for us.
Dear God, I know I’m a sinner and in need of a Savior.  Thank You for sending Your Son to die for my sins, then raising Him again to life.  Come into my life and help me live my life to praise You.  Amen